


Snow

by TwilightKnight17



Series: Reaper Oneshots [9]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, Headcanon, pre-myu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9946019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightKnight17/pseuds/TwilightKnight17
Summary: Eric's views of his reaps are shaped by the people around him. How do those conflicting perspectives come together?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr.

It had been snowing that first day, when Eric Slingby, fresh from passing his final exam at the Academy, was dragged out on his very first reap by his overly excitable mentor. Grell had still been at least halfway in uniform then, in a neatly tailored black suit, her striped ribbon, and her heeled boots. Her hair had also only been down to her mid-back, and was frequently tied back in a loose ponytail. She’d taken Eric along on her reaps for the day, and he watched in baffled fascination as she gleefully rammed her chainsaw through a man’s chest to free his soul.

“Uh… Senior Sutcliffe…? Are we supposed t’ be bein’ so violent? We learned in th’ Academy tha’ we’re jus’ supposed t’ collect th’ soul an’ go…”

“Eric, darling…” Grell sighed. “So long as we’re not doing anything _against_ the rules, we’re fine. It’s not _against_ the rules to have a bit of fun with our reaping~” She pulled the chainsaw out, and Eric watched the blood splatter bright crimson across the snow. It was striking, the difference, and Grell saw him looking and chuckled. “Isn’t it lovely? Blood on snow is such a beautiful tableau!”

Eric frowned a bit. “Seems a bit… irreverent, y’know?”

Grell whapped him in the back of the head with one gloved hand. “They’re just humans, Eric. They’re entertaining at the most, a job at the least. They don’t really matter.” Then, quieter, "Not anymore."

The Junior reaper spared another glance for the body, empty now that the soul and record had been collected, and turned away. “Sure, Senior Sutcliffe.”

xXx

The first day that he was a mentor, it wasn’t properly snowing, but snow managed to make its presence known in another way. He’d taken Grell’s lessons with a grain of salt, especially after her stint as Jack the Ripper. The rumor around the office was that she’d fallen in love with a human. Eric wasn’t going to go that far, but he wasn’t needlessly cruel or bloodthirsty either. He did his job calmly and rationally, and he was hoping to instill that in his mentee.

But as he watched Alan Humphries crying in a garden after their first reap, he realized he’d have a lot of work to do. “Alan?”

“…yes?” Alan said nervously, sniffling a bit. Eric had already scolded him for getting so emotional and considering that they could have saved their target.

“…It’s okay, y’know.” Eric walked over, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Yer allowed t’ feel things. Y’ jus’ have t’ learn how t’ keep those feelings separate from yer reapin’. Understand?”

Alan nodded, but then he seemed to become distracted by the flowers around them. “Ericas?”

“Ericas?” Eric questioned.

“These purple flowers. In the language of flowers, they mean loneliness…” Alan murmured.

Eric scoffed. “Tha’s silly.” Alan seemed to wilt, looking hurt, but then looked up in confusion as Eric continued, “Those flowers aren’t lonely. Look, they’ve got all those other flowers blooming around them!”

The younger reaper smiled. He got up, looking much happier than he had a few minutes before, and his smile only widened as a gust of wind blew through the garden, whipping the purple petals into the air. “Look! The flowers look like snow!”

“Yeah…” They watched as the petals swirled, and Eric reached for Alan’s hand. “Y’know, it snowed on my firs’ reap too.”

“It did?”

Eric grinned. “I had Grelly f’r a mentor, so I got a crash-course in blood on snow,” he chuckled. “She’s th’ one ‘at tried t’ teach me tha’ humans are jus’ a job. An’ it sorta sunk in. Pityin’ them doesn’ help, but we don’ have t’be cruel.”

“I guess…” Alan looked up at him gratefully. “Thanks, Eric.”

“Anytime.”

xXx

Snow seemed to herald all of the firsts in Eric’s life. The white flakes drifted lazily from the sky, lending the night an ethereal glow as he walked down an alley after his final reap of the night. He was preoccupied of late. Alan had been diagnosed with the Thorns of Death, and after weeks and weeks of research, the only possibly cure was not only a myth but so illegal that no reaper in their right mind would consider it. But Eric… He couldn’t lose Alan. The little reaper was his light, his love, and he couldn’t stand to think that Alan wouldn’t be around anymore.

As he stepped out of the alley, he happened to see a pretty girl standing on a corner, clearly waiting for someone. Eric walked up, offering a charming smile. “Good evenin’, miss. All alone t’night?”

“Oh!” The girl looked surprised, but amiable enough. “I’m just waiting for my friend. We’re going to walk home together, but she’s running really late.”

“If yer needin’ an escort, I can walk ya home,” Eric offered. She seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded.

“I feel bad, but it’s so cold out here… Thank you.” She took the arm he offered and explained briefly where she needed to go. Eric chatted idly with her as they walked, and finally detoured into another alley, claiming to know a shortcut. But halfway through, he stopped, turning to face her. “What is it?” she asked nervously.

Eric smiled sheepishly. “’T’isn’ anythin’ personal, miss. It’s jus’… there’s someone I care f’r a lot, an’ he’s dyin’. I have t’do somethin’.” He summoned his scythe. “It won’ hurt a bit.”

Just humans, he kept reminding himself as he struck, thinking of his bloodstained mentor. They didn’t matter. And it was easy to rationalize like that. But be kind, he reminded himself, thinking of his precious partner. It's easy to make the reaping painless. They deserve that.

He gathered the soul, tucking it away safely beside his heart. One on his road to a thousand. The blood splatters on the snow seemed to mock him, but he turned away, looking up into the sky and watching the snow drift down. Snow heralded all of his beginnings: as mentee, as mentor, as murderer.

Maybe one day it would herald his end as well.


End file.
